


steam

by echoofthewind



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bondage, Have fun you sinners, M/M, Mild breath play, Penetration, Rimming, Smut, Spanking, alternate title: hot as fuck sex and iwa-chan gets thoughtful sometimes, brief mention of drinking, i swtg this is just lots and lots of porn, it gets fluffy at the end, iwaoi - Freeform, lots of good ol' smut, lots of language, mild dirty talk, yeah it's just lots of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoofthewind/pseuds/echoofthewind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both of them are waiting. They’re at the precipice of this moment, and the next moment, they’d be moving and falling together into this sea of passion.</p><p>They’re treading the thin line between thinly masked hunger and full-blown desire, but maybe in the end, the line didn’t matter a damn in this war of lust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	steam

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Synnja, my partner in crime.

_“I want it hot. I want it rough. And I want it now,”_ Oikawa breathed against Iwaizumi’s lips. “Do you need me to repeat myself?”

 _Oh_. Well. Okay.

Iwaizumi knew his lover could be straightforward. _Very_ straightforward. He’d seen it in everyday life, seen it when Oikawa’s striking deals with the top businessmen in Tokyo in the marketing room of their company building, hell, even seen it out when they’re drinking with friends and getting wasted.

But he didn’t expect that straightforwardness to have him pinned against the sliding door of their penthouse condo, to have his back pressed against the cool glass. To have a thigh pressing insistently between his. To have a mouth husking the most sinful fantasies in his ear, of blindfolds and handcuffs and denial and pleasure and everything else that belonged amongst the bedsheets.

Iwaizumi’s aware-hyperaware, really-of the body pressing against his, of every muscle hidden underneath inches of steam-pressed cotton, of the tongue tracing along the shell of his ear. He knows Oikawa’s desperate, animalistic, mere moments away from letting the lust and desire buried and burning within him to overflow.

Oikawa’s about to let loose, and Iwaizumi knows that the game they’ve been playing for weeks is over.

He knows that Oikawa’s going to run the show tonight. He knows that he’s bound to their shared bed for the rest of the day, knows that no centimeter of him will remain untouched or unexplored by the end of the night.

In the thick haze that’s his mind right now, Iwaizumi grasps around blindly for something comprehensible to say-and he finds it, gripping it with his lips and letting it flow. His voice rolls, deep, suggestive, his lips searching out a haven in the valleys of Oikawa’s neck. “ _Yes_ , I do. I didn’t seem to understand what you meant the first time around.”

He sees those eyes flicker with want. A sinful tongue flicks out, sliding inch by precarious inch across smooth lips, leaving them glistening. Oikawa’s seducing him, Iwaizumi knows it-and he lets the building storm between them approach anyway, and _fuck,_ does he love the tension that’s clinging to their skin like the sweat on the back of his neck.

Oikawa presses those hips in harder, rolls them once, twice, and _shit_. Iwaizumi finds himself gripping the collar of the other’s shirt. The delicious friction of their hips is just so fucking good, and god, he can’t get enough of it, and-

It stops. It fucking stops, and Iwaizumi feels his hips hanging in midair, abandoned. And he curses, because _damn_ , he wants more.

He wanted more of Oikawa-and even then, more just wouldn’t be enough. He could never get enough of this man. He could never get enough of the excitement that sparked through him whenever they teased and played like this. He was addicted to Oikawa. He was so fucking hooked, and frankly, he didn’t give a damn about getting clean.

“Then I’ll make you understand, sweetheart.” Oikawa’s voice just drops even lower, and the desire spikes even higher in Iwaizumi. Oh,  _fuck._ He knows that Oikawa’s gone. Too far gone.

Oikawa was getting what he wanted tonight, and there wasn’t a damn thing that Iwaizumi could do about it.

Well, not like he wanted to do a damn thing about it in the first place.

The next thing Iwaizumi realizes is that their positions are switched, and Oikawa’s pressed up against the window now, ass extended towards him. “Come on, _Hajime._ Let’s see if you can make me beg for _this._ ” He pushed his ass backwards, feeling the gorgeous curve of it grind against his dick. _Jesus Christ._

“You’re already begging, _sweetheart._ It’s a little too late to not make you beg for it,” Iwaizumi shoots back. And then he rolls his hips tantalizingly slow, allowing his lover to feel every inch of the object that’d make him scream.

“Mm….fuck…” Oikawa grinds back, hips rising and falling like ocean waves. “Yes, baby.... _yes._ ” He’s on the edge, and once he begins babbling, Iwaizumi knows he’s got Tooru around his finger and ready to unravel. “Yes, yes, _yes._ ” His voice is climbing upwards, and he’s gripping the door handle, ass grinding back in frenzied circles, back arched far enough that Iwaizumi can grace his lips with an upside down kiss. “Come on, Hajime...give it to me.” It’s a line that anywhere else, would draw a roll of the eyes from Hajime, but here-it’s one of his switches, because Tooru’s clearly getting impatient.

And Hajime loves impatience.

“Already?” Hajime prods, greedy hands sliding down his lover’s abdomen, pausing right over his clothed dick. “You can’t want me _that_ much, can you?”

Tooru slides his hips up, pressing up against that hand. “Can’t you feel how much I want you, Hajime? Come _on_ ~” He rolls those hips again, rough and wanton. His pretty mouth’s parted, and there’s an unspoken plea for the clothes to come off, for bare skin brushing up against more bare skin, for hot tongues and teeth to clash in feverish battles, for hot moans and pleasured screams. And Hajime soaks up every dangerous word. They’re treading the thin line between thinly masked hunger and full-blown desire, but maybe in the end, the line didn’t matter a damn in this war of lust.

“Alright, I’ll give in. How do you want me tonight? Fast? Slow?” Hajime’s mouth works faithfully along the shell of Tooru’s ear, and Tooru’s left to gripping the handle of the door hard enough that his knuckles tremble with a pale white hue. Every inch of his skin burns with want. His eyes go half-lidded, and in the back of his mind, he’s thinking that maybe he went in a little over his head, because oh _god. Oh god._ It’s so good. The way Hajime’s seducing him in return...it's so fucking good, and he can’t get enough.

“Surprise me, baby,” Tooru purrs, hips rolling up again. He turns a bit and reaches backwards, tugging at Iwaizumi’s velvety striped tie, and his voice dips down to an equally velvety tone. “Show what’s lurking underneath all this. Show me every bit of this masterpiece.”

Hajime raises an eyebrow, but he indulges his lover’s request. The suit jacket comes off, abandoned on the floor. It’ll probably get kicked away, stepped on a few more times, forgotten for the rest of the night. Next goes the tie-but Hajime uses it to bind Tooru’s wrists to the door handle firmly. Oikawa’s glancing up at him through half-lidded, knowing eyes. He’s begging. He likes it; he _needs_ it. Even if they’re not speaking, Hajime’s been with Tooru long enough to understand him without words. And then the pants, and holy _shit_ , Hajime’s so turned on that pre-cum is already staining his briefs, his cock straining against the fabric in an effort to break free. The sight’s so fucking hot, and Tooru _definitely_ wouldn’t mind a little grinding against that.

Fuck. Tooru feels naughty-no, downright slutty tonight, and god, he’d do anything at this point if it meant Hajime would ram that gorgeous dick into his pliant, waiting body a second faster. “Come _on~_ ” he hissed, ass grinding up against the damp material of Hajime’s underwear. “I can’t wait much longer. I _need_ you.” The temperature’s rising in the room, and Tooru’s rutting like an animal, hard and rough and loud. He can’t hold back for much longer. He wants his lover so fucking badly; why can’t Hajime just hurry the fuck up?

Fortunately for Tooru, Hajime slips out of the underwear and his shirt, totally bare. And when Tooru feels the long, thick warmth of his lover pressing up against his clothed ass, he keens and tugs on the restraints. His body curves backwards and his bangs slide into his face as he releases a moan.

 _“_ Yes, oh my god, fuck _yes.”_

Hajime seems to be pleased by that reaction, and he soon rids his boyfriend of all his clothes. Another suit jacket, dress shirt, pants, underwear hit the floor-only the tie stays on, a makeshift collar for now. If Oikawa wanted to really get into it tonight, the tie could be used for _other_ purposes.

Tooru’s getting more and more excited the more and more exposed he becomes, his ass rolling back over and over, slowly, steadily, to meet Hajime’s leaking dick the entire time, his cries climbing in volume till they’re practically echoing off the walls of their apartment, his praise getting progressively filthier and lewder, and _fuck,_ Hajime’s on the verge of losing it and taking back control tonight.

Heated, slick skin meets equally heated, slick skin, and Hajime’s gripping the tie around Tooru’s neck, trembling fingers curling around the fabric and clutching it like a lifeline. Fuck. The way their bodies ascend and descend so desperately, the way their moans intertwine into the most beautifully explicit music, the way their lips find each other like magnets is so damn sinful, and Hajime knows he doesn’t ever want to be cleansed from this. He wants the tastes and smells of their nights together seared onto his body. He wants this eternal testimony of their lust and love etched into every inch of his skin. He wants every perfect moment engraved into his mind. He wants to relive every second of this earthly heaven with his lover.

 _“H-Hajime.”_ Tooru turns his head. _“More.”_ His pupils are dilated. His breaths are staggering. His arms are trembling, barely straining against the tie now. He wants it. He wants it so badly. Maybe for once-it’s okay for Tooru to abandon his throne, his position of power, for the night. After all, it’s Hajime. It’s Hajime, the man he loves and trusts with every drop of his being. It’s Hajime, the man he entrusted his heart the day of graduation, high school diplomas tucked away under their arms, the gentle spring air trickling across their hands and faces.

It’s Hajime, the man that’s his and his alone.

And with that, the exchange takes place. Hajime surges forward, his chest splayed across Tooru’s back, his tongue tasting salt as he explores the nape of his boyfriend’s neck. He can’t get enough. No, scratch that, he could never get enough. Tooru was a universe in and of himself, and no matter how far deep inside Hajime explored, he could never explore the full breadth and width of Tooru. He could never tire of finding a new depth to his boyfriend.

Tooru was human-but there was something about him that wasn’t so human. Maybe it was the way he embodied humanity down to a T; his insecurities, his wants, his desires-all of it was so perfectly human, and maybe that was why Hajime loved him so.

Hajime presses his teeth into the other’s delectable skin, etching a mark into it, the soft red darkening to a steady purple, and Tooru elicits a quiet moan. Hajime knows Tooru loves being marked. He loves carrying around the proof of who he belongs to. The soft burn of teeth marks searing into skin has always turned Tooru on, Hajime found out early on in their relationship, and he’d taken that knowledge into their times together.

“Mm, _fuck._ ” Tooru’s wrists are just barely struggling against the tie. “Hajime, please.” The man below Hajime twists his body so their lips are just barely touching, their foreheads pressed against each other. _“Please.”_ Tooru’s half-lidded eyes entice him-but Hajime’s not about to give in just yet.

“Please what?” Hajime captures the other’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs nice and slow, tongue tasting the bruising skin. His gaze flickered over to catch Tooru’s, and Tooru finds himself spellbound.The way that Hajime’s caught him-the way that Hajime uses his magic to keep this moment heavy and thick, kindling and adding fuel to this sensuality till it’s a full-blown fire-it makes Tooru come alive. In these moments of heat and hunger that linger between their intertwined bodies and tongues, Tooru _knows._ He knows that in the moments where he’s most alive, Hajime’s the most alive too. He knows that Hajime wasn’t going to rush the moment; after all, they had the rest of the night to lose themselves in each other. He knows that they were toying with a passion that they’d end up drowning in.

“Please. _Take me._ ” Tooru makes it clear that it’s not a suggestion. It’s a command. Sure, he’s given up the reins for tonight, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t an aftertaste of what he’d done. He expects to be obeyed, that Hajime takes all of him. He expects to be left with nothing but a calescent memory of tonight and fiery marks all over his body as living reminders of their desire.

And Tooru also expects that Hajime doesn’t comply immediately, and that’s just what Hajime does. Tooru’s head is tugged backwards, courtesy of the tie around his neck, and there’s a prick of haziness that accompanies the movement. Tooru’s not much into asphyxiation-but even he will admit there’s a high to be felt in mild breath play.

“You okay?” Tooru hears his lover husk into his ear. Tooru knows Hajime’s careful about these sorts of things, and the man’s constant thoughtfulness never fails to put Tooru at ease. Hajime would never hurt him.

“Yeah, baby, I feel great…” A smirk tugs at the corners of Tooru’s lips, and he can’t help but steal an upside down kiss from his boyfriend. “Not backing down yet?”

“What do you think, Tooru?” comes the faithful response, and Tooru can’t do anything but laugh breathlessly. “You know how obstinate I can be.”

“Mm, I do know. But...why don’t you loosen up a bit?”

“I think that applies to you more than it does to me.”

“Oh, shut up.” Tooru rolls his eyes, before he reaches upward and grips the back of the other’s head. He tugs Hajime in closer, mimicking his lover’s earlier action and capturing Hajime’s lower lip between his teeth. And he draws the moment out, taking his time, letting this moment take its course, letting it gradually melt between them like chocolate. It’s intimate and sexy, and it never fails to bring another wave of want crashing into Tooru’s veins.

He hears Hajime’s breath hitch, and he can’t help but purr quietly, finally letting go. He punctuates the action with one last lick of his lips, eyes still caught on Hajime’s. The moment dissolves-but the effect of it doesn’t. Hajime seems mildly surprised, a bit off kilter from his earlier position of power now.

“So, babe. Why don’t _you_ loosen up?” Tooru questions again, his smirk only wider. “I believe I made my point clear, hm?”

The banter is mere flirtation with their inarticulated craving for one another, and Tooru knows it. Everything is deliberate, after all. Everything serves to send this storm of thirst into overdrive.

“S-Shut up.” Now it’s Hajime’s turn to say those words. He’s caught. Tooru’s got him there.

“And what if I don’t want to?”

 _Now_ they’re talking.

“Then I’ll make you.” Hajime tugs on the tie around Tooru’s neck, and Tooru groans. “You’re so disobedient.” Something within Hajime comes to life, and like hell was he going to keep the flame burning. He liked playing along with Tooru in these dangerous games of lust-and this was one such instance.  

Hajime ensures the tie around Tooru’s wrists are secure, giving the fabric a good few tugs before pulling away. His lips hover over the nape of the other male’s neck, waiting, expectant. He waits for the right moment, the right opportunity to strike. Tooru’s just as expectant, if those breathy purrs and whines of encouragement were anything to go by.

And then the moment comes-and that’s when Hajime moves. A sharp slap to Tooru’s ass, and he arches up with a choked cry. It’s surprisingly satisfying, Hajime reflects, to see his lover with his back arched back like that, lips parted in a nearly silent scream, pretty eyes half-lidded, wrists struggling against velvet shackles. Hajime lets the action sink in. When Tooru finally relaxes, he turns his head. There’s challenge, a sense of rebellion in those eyes. Tooru wasn’t going to take this lying down, and that only added to the excitement and the heat of these moments.

Another slap, and Tooru hisses. His forehead presses against the glass of their sliding door, lips parted in a silent plea. His arms tense up, pulling sharply on the tie, but they soon relax. He craved more of this sweet punishment. He wanted everything that could be given to him-and all Hajime had to offer was all of himself. And that, for Tooru, was more than enough.

Hajime gives a few gentle squeezes to his boyfriend’s ass, smoothing out the small patches of red back into a beautiful pale. Even in the midst of punishment, he was always aware, always watchful for any signs of pain. Tooru in the past had scolded him for being too concerned-but Hajime couldn’t help it. He could never help but keep watch for the love of his life. That’s what years of being with someone does to you. It makes you smart and stupid at the same time, really. Smart enough to figure out what’s wrong in an instant, stupid enough to do anything to ensure the person you loved was happy.

Back to the subject at hand, Tooru seems to beckon, his ass swaying, the hints of a pout on his lips. “Ha-ji-me~” he sounded out, batting his eyelashes. He knew where Hajime’s mind was at. It was obvious after this much time together. “Stop thinking, and start _doing._ ” There’s the commanding edge in his voice again, and Hajime knows that tone.

And Hajime gets to it once again.

And this time, he doesn’t stop.

His hand makes contact with Tooru’s ass again and again, and now, Tooru seems to be satisfied, his body rocking in tandem with the other’s slaps, more filthy praises slipping past those angelic lips. “Yes! Oh yes- Hajime, yes- Yes-” His moans and praises only climb as Hajime continues, and soon enough, his body is slack against the door, trembling from all the stimulation of painful pleasure.

Hajime finally stops when his boyfriend’s slumped against the glass. His hands resume squeezing and massaging, resulting in a string of pleased sighs from his bound lover.

“T-That...was good…” Tooru husks out, turning his head, and god, he looked so wonderfully wrecked that Hajime couldn’t help but stare for a good couple of seconds. His bangs plastered against his forehead, cheeks stained a gorgeous scarlet, eyes still begging for more-holy shit, this man had to be illegal. Hajime dumbly nodded at the praise, giving a good squeeze to the other’s ass in return. Tooru arched up a bit, before relaxing again, an almost dazed smile on his lips now.

“So, was that it?”

Hajime cocks an eyebrow up at the question. Tooru had a penchant for asking strange, but suggestive questions whenever they did anything sexual. However, no matter the question, the underlying message was _more._ “What do you think?”

“That couldn’t have been it, Iwa-chan. There’s no way you’re done with my punishment already.”

Hajime rolls his eyes, giving one last firm slap to Tooru’s rear. “And _if_ I was done with your punishment?”

There’s that sense of challenge in Tooru’s eyes that hasn’t died out yet, Hajime can tell, as his lover responds. “Then I’d do something to get more punishment.”

Hajime can’t help but snort at that. Of course Tooru would do that. Of course. “Well, fortunately, you don’t have to take the time and effort to do that. I’m not done with your punishment just yet.”

Tooru’s eyes flicker in excitement at that, and he croons, ass beginning to sway again. “Good. Otherwise, I just might have had to punish you later~”

Hajime can’t help but guffaw at that. “Yeah, right. Like you’ll tie me up and spank me too.”

 _Oh_. Well, that seemed to ignite something in Tooru, judging from the dip in pitch in his voice. “...It won’t be just that, y’know. But I can’t let you in on all the details~ I will tell you, though, that you’ll be left breathless and absolutely at my mercy~”

 _Okay then._ Hajime was looking forward to it-not like he’d ever tell that to Tooru’s face. “Yeah, good luck with that,” he snarkily retorted, before gripping Tooru’s ass firmly, keeping it in place.

Tooru hums appreciatively at the way Hajime had him trapped like this. It's surprisingly refreshing to be cornered like this, unable to move, and _oh, holy shit,_ was Hajime licking his _-_

Tooru’s body lurches forward, a startled but pleased moan ripping from his lips. _“Hajime!”_ Shit, he should have seen that coming. He’d let his guard down, and now, Hajime was going to take advantage of the moment. He lets out a few desperate mewls as Hajime’s tongue works roughly against his entrance, trying to move and guide that tongue inside, but _fuck,_ were the other man’s hands strong and keeping him in one place.

Tooru feels a puff of hot air wafting over his hole, and he gives a sharp gasp as his body twitches in response. Holy...holy _shit._ That was so... _dirty._

And did Tooru love dirty.

“Slut,” he hears Hajime husk, and the title has Tooru shuddering. God, he loved it when Hajime spoke like that.

“Mm, that’s right, baby…” Tooru turns his head, a wicked grin housed on his lips. “I’m a slut. Specifically, _your_ slut.”

Something about belonging to someone had always appealed to Tooru-especially in these times. He’d always belonged to Hajime in a way, but when they were having sex, Tooru knew he belonged to the man in some of the deepest ways possible-physically and mentally. And he knew Hajime shared the sentiment, because he could hear Hajime give a shaky exhale and feel those hands grip his hips even tighter. Hajime didn’t say anything, but nothing had to be said. Tooru understood it all.

Tooru’s legs go weak when Hajime’s tongue pushes inside- _finally_ -resulting in another moan. _“Hajime.”_ The man’s name was a mantra, a prayer that Tooru could never stop saying. His voice was strained, tinged with so much want and love, and shit, it felt like he could burst at any time.

He just wanted every single inch of Hajime. And he wanted every single inch _now._

But now just had to wait, because Hajime was working wonders with that dastardly talented tongue of his, and Tooru could do nothing but struggle against his restraints, his body yielding and melting under his boyfriend’s ministrations. _Shit._ Maybe he did go overboard with this punishment, Tooru briefly considered, because he felt like he could cum just from this alone. Hajime was just too good at this. It was almost-okay, he’d be honest here- _totally_ unfair how amazing Hajime was in bed. The man was an absolute beast, and he could ravage Tooru if he so chose-like he was doing right now.

“Hajime, Hajime, Hajime…!” Tooru groans against the cool glass of the door, his breath fogging up the smooth surface. He could think of nothing else but the man who was sending these glorious pleasures like electricity through his body. “Hajime, baby... _fuck…_ ” His voice breaks on the last word, as his knees nearly buckle. Fortunately, he keeps standing, but holy shit-this was way too good.

But unfortunately, good things end eventually-only to have better things ushered in their place. Tooru gives one weak mewl, his body on fire and sensitive, as Hajime pulls his tongue out. Damn him. Damn that wickedly talented tongue of his. Damn it-

His knees buckle again, and this time, Hajime is the one to keep him standing. Shit, now it was Hajime’s fingers, and just like the man’s tongue, those digits could bring heaven down to earth. “Oh my _god._ ” Tooru’s struggling a bit against the restraints, weak whines slipping out of his lips as one finger curls and explores inside his body. He’s moving back against that finger immediately. He’s hungry, desperate for more, and he’s not afraid to show it. He pushes back hard against that finger, quiet mewls clawing their way out of his throat. “More, more-” he starts, but Hajime beats him to the punch, and Tooru keens as a second finger presses into him. “Yes, fuck-”

Tooru’s voice climbs in volume again, and once Hajime starts scissoring his fingers, then it’s curtains. Tooru moans unabashedly, totally unashamed. He doesn’t give a damn if those living below them could hear them. In fact, he wanted them to hear. He wants them to know how high this angel in human flesh named Iwaizumi Hajime could take him. He wants them to know how much he wants and loves this man, how deeply their lives and fates are intertwined. He wants them to know it all.

Trembling hands grip the door handle, and after the third finger enters and Hajime curls his fingers just right, Tooru lets out a string of the most beautiful moans Hajime’s ever heard in his entire life. Hajime can’t help but shiver, because holy fuck, those moans couldn’t have been human. No way. Tooru’s moans compose a symphony-one that rips the air from Hajime’s lungs, leaving him breathless and starstruck every time. Each of those heavenly sounds is a story that testifies to the stars and galaxies about their desire and love for one another. Each note is powerful, never failing to flood Hajime with wonder.

Simply put, Hajime finds himself lovestruck in these moments. He can’t say a word, can’t say anything. He’s in awe. He couldn’t be anything else but. His fingers still move, but his mind is going mere millimeters a second. Tooru’s just so damn beautiful. Hajime just can’t move a muscle. He’s so fucking overwhelmed in this moment, just so...enraptured. In these moments, it’s not lust that’s driving him-it had to be unadulterated love.

And when Tooru looks back at him with half-lidded eyes and a cry of _Hajime_ upon those gorgeous lips, Hajime knows that he’s in deep-not just physically, but mentally. He’s so...in love. It was kinda disgusting how sappy he was being in these moments, to be quite honest, but sappiness did have its place in a relationship, he supposed.

He curls his fingers again, and Tooru elicits another series of gorgeous sounds. After doing this so many times with Tooru, Hajime has every inch of his lover’s body to memory. He know what Tooru loves and needs-and the answer comes down to every inch of himself. Nothing else. And Hajime does just that-he gives up every inch of himself to the man who’d give up every inch of himself to him. It’s a beautiful exchange that takes place whenever they have sex, and honestly, Hajime wouldn’t want it any other way.

Tooru whines, snapping Hajime out of his reverie. Tooru’s getting impatient with just fingers. He wants something better, more fulfilling. He purrs, ass swaying again to get Hajime’s attention, and he gets just that. Hajime pulls out his fingers, before groaning quietly to himself. “I have to get the lube,” Tooru hears from behind.

“Lube’s overrated, don’t you know?” Tooru joked, glancing back with an amused grin. “Just go in totally raw.”

Hajime gives him a good roll of the eyes, swatting his ass. Tooru’s breath hitches at that, and his gaze flickers back to the glass door. “Lube’s right behind you. Made sure to put a tube of that everywhere in this house. No matter where we get feisty, we’re prepared.”

 _Of course, Tooru’s always prepared_. Hajime turns around and finds the small container of lube stealthily covered by the edges of a magazine. He had to admire Tooru’s foresight. He sure loved one hell of a smart guy.

Hajime groaned quietly as he spread the gel over his dick, his arousal spiking when his gaze met Tooru’s. Tooru was taking in the show, rather ready and expectant for what was next-as he called it, the icing on the cake-and not the shitty kind of icing, but the thick, creamy, sweet kind.

Hajime’s done in a matter of moments, and he leans over, the tip of his dick pressed up against Tooru’s entrance. “Babe. Ready?”

Tooru doesn’t have to say anything. One movement of his eyes is enough. He gasps, his body instinctively pressing forward against the glass as Hajime slides in, inch by delicious inch. “Fuck…” he hisses as he takes in every bit of the man he loves. “...Hajime.”

Hajime’s careful to go in slow; despite all the preparation, he’s still pretty large. He grunts quietly as he’s finally in all the way. “Okay?” he mumbles, his chest pressed up squarely against Tooru’s back, every centimeter of heated, slick skin intimately acquainted now.

After a shaky breath, Tooru nods, craning his neck and brushing their lips. Both of them are waiting. They’re at the precipice of this moment, and the next moment, they’d be moving and falling together into this sea of passion. Tooru can feel Hajime’s hot breath run quietly along his lips as their foreheads press together. They take advantage of these lingering seconds, taking hold of them and calling them their own.

“Hajime,” Tooru finds himself calling.

And Hajime finds himself answering. “Tooru.”

Nothing else has to be said. Every sentiment they’d ever want to convey is shared between those two names. Tooru can feel Hajime’s breathtaking warmth and desire and love just in that call of his own name. He was Hajime’s. That was all he’d ever needed to know-and Hajime reassured him of just that. God, how on earth did he ever deserve such a gorgeous, strong, thoughtful man?

He wanted to reach out to Hajime, touch his cheek, but his hands were still bound. Nevertheless...he could still kiss Hajime, and that’s just what he did. It was a deeper kiss this time, their lips and tongues at play, and if that kiss didn’t give Tooru a big rush of satisfaction, he’d be lying. His body naturally relaxes as the kiss continues; his mind is occupied and the initial discomfort recedes quickly.

After a few more seconds of locked lips and intertwined tongues, Oikawa pulls away a few millimeters, his long eyelashes kissing Hajime’s. “...Ready,” he husks against the other’s lips, the barest touch of their lips together sending a pleasant buzz through his veins. God, Hajime was stunning...he always was. Their breaths weave together like their lives, and in this calm before the storm, Tooru could feel the gravity of what they were doing. This wasn’t a one night stand. This wasn’t a quick fuck. This was _real._ This was _powerful._

“Alright.” Hajime’s gaze holds his as if by magic the entire time. Hajime’s hips slip back, then thrust forward, sending a shock wave rippling through Tooru’s body. Hajime watches-watches the bliss blossom across his lover’s face, watches the way that gorgeous head and neck tilt back in sweet pleasure, watches how Tooru nearly crumbles with that one movement alone.

Hajime waits patiently till Tooru tilts his head to face his, and their lips meet a second time, melding together in a curious masterpiece. It’s gentle, loving, slow. They aren’t fucking when they’re doing this, Hajime contemplates absentmindedly. They’re making love.

A shudder ripples through Hajime when Tooru pulls back once more and whispers, “Let me love you completely. I want to love all of you with all of me.”

Hajime understands those words. He unties Tooru’s shackles and tugs off the tie around his neck. Both strips of fabric fall to the floor, forgotten like the rest of their clothing. Slowly, Hajime pulls out, and Tooru turns over, laying down on his back with his legs spread.

Tooru’s vulnerable. But what makes the difference is that he’s vulnerable around the only person who could love every inch of his vulnerable self in its entirety. His arms are outstretched, beckoning Hajime into his arms, and Hajime takes the invitation. As they embrace, Hajime slips in once more into his lover’s body-and this time, they don’t stop. They don’t hesitate, pause, or crack jokes. They simply love and lose themselves in the mountains and valleys of each other.

There’s no more verbal exchange between them. All they cry out from this point onwards is each other’s names. Their bodies move of their own accord. They’re not practiced movements. They’re instinctive. They’re natural. Every rise and fall of their bodies is in tandem, every breathless call of _Hajime_ and _Tooru_ building in volume and passion. Their lips mingle countless more times, their breaths and bodies so lost and laced in one another till neither of them could distinguish where their humanity began and ended.

Starving fingers clutch at slick shoulders. Feverish tongues drink in each other’s tastes. Hearts race and adrenaline flares into blood, and everything builds even higher and hotter. Their bodies keep moving over and over again, and smooth movements taper into rough, almost animalistic motions as they both advance towards the apex, towards perfection.

Hajime feels his lover tense up, Tooru’s nails digging deeper into his shoulder blades. _Close. Closer. More. Harder. Faster._ Tooru’s unable to speak, so wrecked and lost in every movement, but Hajime can feel it. Tooru’s just seconds away-as is he.

Tooru’s almost totally blissed out, eyes screwed shut, lips crying out _Hajime_ over and over again, and Hajime’s just caught in the moment because holy shit, he’s never seen Tooru so goddamn beautiful before. Well, of course he always considered his boyfriend beautiful-but Hajime’s never seen Tooru like this, when he’s so close to release. Hajime finds _Tooru_ flowing from his lips as they edge towards their peaks together, their bodies working harder and faster. They're so close to their heaven-and their voices reflect that, cries of each other’s name freely escaping. More, more, _more._

And more was enough as they come together, the room echoing with their strangled cries. Tooru digs his nails into Hajime’s shoulders, throwing his head back with a scream. He’s never come this hard before-and he’s unable to feel anything for a good moment. Hajime is much the same way; his body lets go, and he’s left panting and absolutely spent. He lays down on top of Tooru, hurried breath caressing Tooru’s cheek.

They stay like that-tangled up in each other for a good few minutes as they catch their breaths. Tooru’s chest rises and falls rapidly at first, but soon enough, Tooru finds himself winding down, the words finally coming to his lips. “Hajime...that was... _amazing_.”

Hajime covers the few millimeters between his lips and Tooru’s cheek, sighing into the other’s heated skin. “I second that.” His arms hold Tooru closer, strong but ever so gentle. Hajime can’t help but smile in these precious moments. Feeling every inch of their bare skin touching is a rather profound experience. That’s the only way he could describe it. Being intertwined with the person you loved...is simply enchanting, magical.

Tooru laughs, his fingers skimming Hajime’s firm back, massaging along his spine and sides. “God….you’re perfect, Hajime. You’re everything that I could ever ask for...and then more.” He’s being so heartfelt and genuine that Hajime can’t say anything in return. The only response he can give is a kiss to the corner of Tooru’s lips, a soft purr bubbling up inside his chest.

“I love you,” Tooru finishes. His fingers return home to Hajime’s hair, nails scratching along the other’s scalp, whisking another purr from those pretty lips.

Those three words are so damn simple-and yet they mean the world to Hajime. Those words don’t even begin to scratch the surface of how deeply they feel towards one another, but that’s the most succinct way to summarize it, and maybe that’s why Hajime loves hearing those words-and saying them as well.

“I love you too,” comes the simple answer that only hopes to convey the intricacies of a love as far and wide as the universe itself.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr! I'm ripplesonthewater1.


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